


Wildest Dreams

by Herald_of_Dreams



Series: Complete Harry Potter [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, One-Shot, Romance, Songfic, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 03:36:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12762312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herald_of_Dreams/pseuds/Herald_of_Dreams
Summary: Songfic about Sirius Black and the one girl who got away. Set in Order of the Phoenix.Song is Taylor Swift's Wildest DreamsI don't own Harry Potter or Taylor Swift's music.





	Wildest Dreams

_He's so tall, and handsome as hell_   
_He's so bad but he does it so well_

_Say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams_   
_You see me in hindsight_   
_Tangled up with you all night_   
_Some day when you leave me_   
_I bet these memories follow you around_

_Say you'll remember me_   
_Standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset babe_   
_Red lips and rosy cheeks_   
_Say you'll see me again even if it's just pretend_

Sirius Black was, or had been, a playboy. He was the first to admit it; commitment just wasn't his thing. Most of the time the women he'd been with after graduating Hogwarts understood that while he may be the personification of their dreams, it wasn't going to last forever. That had been the standing order. For the most part, anyway.

Before and after his stint in Azkaban, one girl had stayed in his memories. She hadn't been as shockingly beautiful as some of the women he'd been with starting at the tender age of fourteen, but she'd certainly been the most memorable. She had been the only one who had made him chase her, and actually enjoy it. She'd been a Muggleborn, something that would have horrified his family.

He hadn't cared in the slightest for their pretentious concerns over blood purity. He'd dated and bedded them all, from the daintiest pureblood to the most common-looking Muggleborn. Hell, he'd even dated a Muggle girl one summer. She'd been the one to introduce him to motorbikes.

But this girl; she'd been different somehow. She'd made his skin tingle like a naïve boy with his first crush, something that had boggled his mind more than once because he was everything but an inexperienced romantic. Sometimes he wondered if what he felt with her had been love. Lust he knew quite well with all of his dalliances. Love on the other hand was a stranger to him. The feeling wasn't something he was familiar with, after all he had hardly the best familial example.

The first time he'd convinced her to go to bed with him had been a source of personal achievement. She had resisted far longer than his usual kind, knowing that he was of a kind that wouldn't last long. But she'd finally given in and he'd felt a fire unlike any other burn through his body, setting his nerves alight and causing a shudder of pleasure from just her running her fingers through his hair.

She'd been a Ravenclaw, smart as her house implied, but with a sharp sense of humor and a certain disregard for the rules of being intelligent. She'd dressed well, hadn't spent every single moment of every day studying and enjoyed other things than books, noticeably flying. She'd been good at it, privately admitting that she'd thought of trying out for her house Quidditch team and then decided against it as the Captain at the time wasn't fond of the idea of women playing.

He'd never introduced her to James, Remus or Peter. She'd been his secret, his escape away from the reputation of being the humorous Gryffindor with a heart for pranks and wooing females. Long walks by the Lake, casual games of one on one Quidditch or just loops around the pitch. Secret meeting at the astronomy tower, those had been their thing.

He'd remember the day their relationship ended for the rest of his life. Despite his best efforts to stay with her, to want a commitment with someone, she had sensed his restlessness. After a few rounds one night she'd run her fingers through his hair and smiled. It was a gentle, content smile shot through with a slight hint of knowing sadness.

He'd asked her why her smile seemed sad, and she had softly told him. She knew they were done, this would be their last night together. She'd seen his desire to keep moving, to experience was youthful relationships were left. She was letting him go, without any resentment or tears. All she asked of him was that he remember her.

Sirius had told her he would always remember her, whether walking around the lake, sitting up at the astronomy tower or sitting and studying one of her textbooks, a smudge of ink on her nose and a quill tucked behind her ear. He'd told her honestly that he thought she was unforgettable, that he was sorry he couldn't change his ways and stay with her. He'd told her that being with her had been the closest to actually loving someone in a romantic way that he'd ever been.

She had said that she was glad, before dragging his lips to hers and curling next to him to sleep. Sirius hadn't slept at all that night, laying awake with her by his side, hair tangled with hers the same as their limbs. He'd lain awake and felt resentful as the sun began to rise, signaling the end of their last night. He'd tried to block out the light, but it had come anyways, spilling soft rays over her beautiful, mature face.

The temptation to flee before she rose, to escape the feelings overwhelming him, had been difficult. He'd stayed, waited for her to wake and then they had both dressed, before he'd kissed the back of her hand and softly thanked her for their time together. Then he had fled, all the way out to the grounds where he'd sat beneath the willow tree 'claimed' for the Marauders and cried.

For the first time in his life he'd hated himself, hated the way he was and his inability to settle down and stay with someone. He'd wanted to stay with her so badly it hurt, but it just wasn't to be. He'd lost himself in schoolwork and it had been the summer holidays before he'd picked another girl.

As he'd promised, Sirius still remembered her, even when most of his memories were fractured by Azkaban. He'd caught himself hesitating near a stack of old copies of the _Prophet,_ thinking to look up her name and see what had become of her. He'd gone as far as picking up the first copy, feeling the old, brittle paper in his hands. Fear had overcome him, at seeing her name in the obituaries or the marriages he wasn't certain, but he couldn't make himself do it.

He'd set down the papers and fled, here to his old room from his teenage years, before he'd run away from home. He sat on his old bed, coughed once from the dust and gazed around the room, staring at his old schoolbooks and the pictures he'd stuck on the wall just to annoy his mother. He flopped back on the bed, staring up at the skeleton of a dragon that he'd put together from a kit when he was about 10.

She'd asked him to remember her, and so he would. For the rest of his life he'd remember her as she had been so many years ago, the one he'd hated to lose. Perhaps the only woman on this planet that he'd loved, let alone wanted to stay with. She'd stay forever young in his memories, forever _his._ It was better than confronting the truth, the reality.

The reality that Sirius Black was, or had been, a playboy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm alive! To all of those who have been reading my stories and asking for updates, I WILL get there. I have been hit by the worst case of writer's block in years, combined with some serious and stressful changes in my life. I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year, using those 50k to work on some new stuff and much deserved updates for old. I can't promise when things will be updated, but I promise that they WILL BE.


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